Page 71 of A Very Merry Mistake

“Ow.” She playfully pats at me. “Bites from both of you. That food smells delicious. Do you think it’s safe to eat?”

“She’s a bitch, but she’s not stupid. I don’t think she’d tamper with my mama’s cookin’ like that. Too many repercussions.”

“I trust your judgment. Kinda.” She winks and leads me into the kitchen, and I peel the plastic lids off the containers.

She peers down and looks comically disappointed. “What is it?”

“Shepherd’s pie and cornbread.”

“Uh…” She hesitates.

“Ignore how it looks. It tastes amazin’.” I grab a fork from the drawer and scoop some up. She opens her mouth, and I feed it to her. After she chews and swallows, she smiles at me.

“Please, sir, I’d like some more.”

“I’ll teach you how to cook this one day if you’d like.” I chuckle.

“I’d love that,” she says.

I pull two plates from the cabinet and another fork. My towel falls from my waist as I divide the food onto our plates. Claire’s eyebrows pop up, and she studies my cock. “Is that for dinner?”

“I thought you’d had your fill already.”

Laughter escapes her.

“Gonna go put some joggers on. I’ll be right back.” I walk away, and when I glance over my shoulder, Claire’s staring. I shoot her a wink, then go to my bedroom and slide on a pair of dark gray jogging pants. Before I return to her, I remove my contacts and grab my glasses.

When I walk into the kitchen, I find her gulping down her food. She eyes my pants and says, “Damn. You’re really trying me, aren’t you?”

“Not sure what you’re referring to.”

She holds out her hand. “You’re not real. There’s no way.”

I sit on the stool beside her, resting my hand on her inner thigh and gently squeezing. She sucks in a deep breath. “See? Just one touch, and I can’t concentrate. You sure she didn’t poison our food?”

Even though I’m shaking my head, I’m smiling. “You flatter me.”

Claire bumps her shoulder against mine. “Learn to take a compliment every once in a while. Just don’t get too cocky. A humble man is hot.”

As we eat, our legs rest against one another, and I place my hand on the small of her back, a simple gesture, one that tells her I’m here. We don’t need to fill the space with pointless chatter as we eat. The stolen glances are more than enough.

“So what’s for dessert?” she asks when we’re finished eating.

“You,” I suggest, and that’s when I realize I’m too comfortable with this woman.

“That sounds like a good night.”

“But there’s one thing we have to do first,” I tell her as she clears her plate. I try to grab them, but she takes them first and carries them to the sink.

“I’ll take care of that.”

“Washing a dish is one thing I can do without messing it up,” she says, turning on the sprayer. I move behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. Softly, I place kisses behind her ear, and she tilts her neck, giving me more access. She drops the fork in the sink, and the clank makes her jump.

After she cuts off the water, Claire turns to face me, her back against the countertop. She studies me, words on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn’t speak.

“What?” I ask, my brows lifted, waiting.

“I’m scared I’m growing attached to you.”

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